Jane and Austen Read Online Free PDF

three times more orange.
    “My baggage is in the trunk,” she informed me, popping the trunk.
    I stifled a sigh. The informality of the North Abbey had turned their event coordinator into a bellhop.
    Mrs. Bertram-Rush dangled her car keys from her car window for me. “You will also show me my room, I take it?”
    I abandoned the trunk for the time being and took the keys from her. “A cart to drive you to your accommodations will be here shortly. If you will just wait in the lobby.”
    The thin woman gaped at me like no one had ever asked her to wait for anything. I smiled blandly back at her as if I had no idea that she was so annoyed. She pursed her lips, stepping delicately out of her car as another guest pulled up—in a minivan this time. The window rolled down and a breathless face popped out. “Is this the right place?”
    The sign for the resort framed her head behind her.
    “Are you looking for North Abbey?” I asked.
    The woman nodded. Her straight, auburn hair came out in greasy strings from a tight ponytail that looked as though she had slept on it for hours. “I’m Taylor’s . . .” She turned mid-speech and coughed into her hand, a great wheezing, hacking sound that made me think she had just crawled from her deathbed to get here. Mrs. Bertram-Rush scrambled to keep back from the invisible germs, her heels clacking against the ground.
    “I’m Taylor’s bridesmaid,” the woman said as soon as she had breath to speak. “Mary Musswood.” She wiped her hand off on her shirt and poked it through her car window for a handshake.
    Thinking fondly of the hand sanitizer in the lobby, I shook it. “Glad you could make it, Mary. If you could pull over to the side there, we’ll take care of your bags and park your car for you.”
    She coughed again and did as told—parking only three feet over the yellow line. The coughing fits bursting from her minivan told me that was the best we were going to get. It was apparent that this socialite had fallen on hard times. She staggered out of her vehicle and slammed the door hard behind her, putting her hand over her heart as if she had startled herself.
    I took her keys, wondering what was taking Freddy so long. He was making me look like a one-woman operation here. Mary Musswood wiped at her reddened nose with an oversized tissue. She seemed a frail lady, which she only emphasized by wearing clothes a size too big. She turned to squint at Taylor’s maid of honor. “Wait, don’t I know you? You’ve lost so much weight. Bertie?”
     “Mrs. Bertram-Rush,” the woman said in a voice that could freeze fire. If possible, “Bertie” was more distant with Mary than with me, which was an amazing feat.
    Mary drew forward, gushing. “Wow, Bertie! It’s been so long. I see you on the front of all of those sleazy gossip magazines. I can’t believe you’re not at one of those drunken Hollywood parties right now. Didn’t you date that rapper for a while? What was his name? Chris Slum-Diesel or something? Well, who cares? He was beautiful. Why did he break up with you?”
    Bertie gaped until she seemed to snap. “I broke up with him. ”
    “Yes, yes, of course.” Mary stared at Bertie for an uncomfortable moment. “Of course.”
    With their keys in hand, I gestured for Taylor’s friends to follow me. Bertie strode ahead of Mary, looking annoyed. She finally swiveled to Mary and informed her, “I’m married now.” She flashed her oversized diamond ring once again. “My husband makes every man I’d ever been with look like a used car salesman.”
    Mary appeared suitably impressed. We stepped into the lounge just as a grey ball of fur slipped past our feet. “A cat?” Mary’s hands dug through her purse until she found a package of tissues. She snapped three out with practiced hands and rubbed them across her nose. “Keep it back. I’m allergic.”
    “That’s Taylor’s cat,” I said. “Mister stays in the lobby, so your room will be fine, Mary.